Blame it All On Me
by poisonnwine
Summary: "You cannot say that I'm not. Everything—with you—my mom, I wasn't there. I wasn't there, and I should have been." Toby blames himself for a lot of things, one of those things was his mother's death. After hearing the unraveling of the horrific tale, Spencer can't bring herself to tell him what she had done to his mother's grave without bring tears along with her.Warning: Suicide


**hello there friends, well this little story, as you would call I guess, has been on my tumblr for quite some time, and idk what possessed me to decide to transfer a bunch of crap from my tumblr to here, but yeah. People said I did a pretty nice job on this so I figured I'd just post it on here. What the hell. Also for people who read misplaced kisses: I have not forgotten about this story, I PROMISE i just really want to get ANBWAH done :( I'm never doing any multichapters at once, ever again. Holy shit. Anyways, here read this, and possibly leave your thoughts at the end of the screen because that would make me happy and you should want to make me happy because IT'S JUST A NICE THING TO DO! p.s. i revised it A TINY bit from the one on my tumblr, so yeah, idk why i am mentioning this but w/e. **

**...**

She sat on the couch, a blanket fastened around her body, and a barely sipped coffee—this was the ultimate signal that something was wrong—in her hand. Her hazy eyes were dead set on nothing particular, but focused intensely in some other world.

He sat next to her. His arm wrapped around her torso, his shoulder hosting as her pillow.

They were at her lake house. Hiding out from the rest of Rosewood—her parents in particular. No one knew, besides a few that the two were back together or at least _trying _to be at least. They had a lot to work through, but other affairs were in order here.

The universe wasn't going to give them a second to patch their relationship back up.

It had other plans.

Such as Jason Dilarentaus' death.

"Toby…" said Spencer after the endless silence that landed upon them quite awhile ago.

"mmm?" mumbled Toby, his eyes finding a spot on the top of her head.

She shifted her position, adjusting herself so that her eyes were in contact with his. Her copper eyes wavered against his, her dry throat swallowed, and her unsteady body tensed. "While, while I was in Radely…I met someone. He was a nurse there." She gulped. "Eddie Lamb." She breathed, faltering her eyes away for a glimpse of a second as the phrase of_ "the name on your I.D. badge"_ left her mouth.

He looked down in shame at the reminder of all the horrible things that Spencer went through— and because of him—while he was away.

"He said he knew you." She let out, "That he knew you while…your mom was there."

He looked up—almost shocked, his blue eyes searching hers. They never really talked about his mother, at least not about _that part of his mother. _There few conversations about her mostly consisted of what she was like, and the memories they shared. Spencer never asked how she died. He assumed it was because she was waiting for him to tell her when he was ready. But, he never was. He never really talked about her death, the last few months of her life, with anyone. The only person he remotely opened up to was the councilor at his reform school—but they practically forced it out of him, to be fair. He would have never willingly talked about it. If it weren't for them convincing him it was going to help him get out of that place, he would have said a single word.

Toby didn't respond, so Spencer took this as a liberty to continue talking.

"Why was she there?" asked Spencer, her voice timid, and light, almost inaudible.

He took in a deep breath.

He wasn't necessarily ready to talk about it, but he replied anyways.

"She was, um, depressed…she tried to kill herself, but we saved her in time." He said, not looking at her. "They sent her there, my dad, her parents—my grandparents, they all agreed that that would be the best decision. I visited her a lot, at first I only went with my dad because I don't know, I was scared, I didn't know what to say. She tried to put a brave face up around me, but I knew she was just doing that to make me think that everything would be okay. Eventually, I started to go alone. Most of the time we would just sit there in silence. Until, Eddie came along that is. He always wanted to play a board game. We had to have played every single board game at least five times." He recalled, his eyes visiting the distant memory, a tinting sparkle dazzling in his eyes, and an almost half smile marked upon his lips. "That's actually where I learned all my mad scrabble skills," he looked at her for a brief second, a dark—almost sad chuckle escaping his mouth.

Spencer offered a tiny, sad smile.

"I actually thought she was getting better." He grimaced, his eyes returning to the land of the unknown. "Apparently everyone else did too. She was released after two months. She came home after that. Everything seemed fine—like it would be okay." He paused, his voice becoming number and number as the story continued. "We were supposed to keep a close eye on her. Make sure she was alright. Someone was supposed to _always _be with her. At least for the first couple weeks. Except you don't know. You don't know how long it takes for a person to get better; you can't put a time limit on that. It doesn't work that way." He paused again, this time for a longer period of time. "I thought it would be okay—to go and hangout with my friends—people I don't even talk to anymore, I left her to go hangout with the same people who would laugh at Alison's cruel jokes, and spray paint murderer on my locker." He shook his head at the thought. "and when I came home, there were fire trucks everywhere, my dad was bawling his eyes out, and my mom was being pulled out on a stretcher." He said lastly, his voice cracking on the last part as his he his hands covered his face, trying to hide the tears falling down his face. A second later, he let his hands fall to his lap, his eyes swollen, and pink, and his hands trembling. "And it was my fault…I wasn't there. I let everyone down."

"Toby," said Spencer, softly, trying to contain her own tears. He wouldn't look at her. She cupped his face, forcing him to look at her. His head was now turned towards her, but his eyes hit southward, silent tears dripping down his face. "Toby" she said once more "look at me."

He glanced up at her shyly, his blue eyes vulnerable, and filtered with tears.

"It is _not _your fault." She said, her voice so confident, that it almost made him feel that the statement was true. "You cannot blame yourself for this. She was mentally ill, Toby. She was depressed. You couldn't change that. You couldn't cure her."

"I could have been there for her" he spoke meekly, his eyes falling once again in guilt and shame. "I could have, maybe, stopped her from doing it. I shouldn't have left. I should have been there." He looked up at her once more.

She shook her head ever so lightly. "Toby," her voice broke softly "she would have found another way. You couldn't have stopped her. You couldn't have known what she was planning to do."

"I did know though, Spencer!" he shook his head out of her grip. "She was depressed—suicidal!"

"Yeah, and you thought she was getting better. You cannot blame yourself for this! It's no one's fault, Toby."

"I am to blame for a lot of things Spencer." He gulped, looking at her once more. "You cannot say that I'm not. Everything—with you—my mom, I wasn't there. I wasn't there, and I should have been."

"No one is perfect, Toby. I used to think that it was something attainable—perfection—but it's not. Everyone makes mistakes, do things they regret. You can't blame yourself for not knowing how things are going to turn out. No one knows what will happen."

He didn't say anything.

She cupped his face again, their heavy watered eyes bouncing off one another. "I'm so sorry, Toby."

"It's not your fault."

"But, I did something, something that…I shouldn't have."

His eyebrows creased.

He let her hands fall down, and her eyes followed. "I was really mad at you…I thought you didn't love me…I thought you were using me, and you hurt me, so badly." Her voice shook greatly. "I don't know what I was thinking…" she looked up at him.

"Spencer?" he asked, "what is it?" his voice was soft, and calm. Curious, but not commanding.

"I'm sorry" she looked at him, tears cascading down her features. "I—I ruined your mother's grave." She spat out. Her voice trembling. "I'm sorry."

He sat there for a second. Unmoving.

Then his hands were cupped around her face. This time he was the one forcing her to look at him. "Spencer, I don't. I can't be mad at you. Not after everything I did to you. I deserved it."

"No you don't. Toby you may have hurt me, broken my heart, but you don't deserve any more pain."

He didn't respond to her, instead he kissed her.

He couldn't stand to listen to Spencer stick up for him any longer. He had so much self hatred. No matter what Spencer said, he would always blame himself. It was his fault. He was to blame for all the hurt he caused amongst the ones he loved.

He would never forgive himself for the things he has done, he couldn't. He didn't even know how.


End file.
